


Dance To A Broken Tune

by Flying_Pinneaple



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark!Katniss, Depression, F/F, F/M, Mild to graphic violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Substance Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-05-15 08:33:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5778892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flying_Pinneaple/pseuds/Flying_Pinneaple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because you don't go through two Hunger Games, a civil war, and the destruction of your home without there being some damage.</p><p>See the world through the eyes of Katniss Everdeen: A cold, bitter, cynical and broken being as she stumbles through a war she knows too damn well at this point in time.</p><p>Moments in time of beauty and horror(mostly horror) ranging from the very beginning to the very end of the war</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i'm alone with my sins, just let me be.

**Author's Note:**

> A few points before we proceed dear readers.
> 
> \- Set to the same tone of "Of Songs, Death, and Alcohol" this is a collection of prompts, disjointed and rarely set in the same time. 
> 
> \- Katniss is far more liberal with her substances, and her bitterness and depression that much more noticeable. Not to mention she spends too much time with Johanna, her language has gotten a lot more... rougher.
> 
> \- Also, Katniss is not fine. In any way, shape or form. You don't go through what she has, done what she has, and come out unscathed. She's depressed, angry, and downright suicidal
> 
> If you're still not running to the hills, then I hope you enjoy dear readers!

_**Drunk** _

Okay, maybe snatching a bottle from Haymitch of all people wasn't smart. And maybe daring Gale and Beetee to a drinking match wasn't smart either. But it's either stumbling back to her room like a giggling Capitol schoolgirl humming some long forgotten tune (that remind her of hempen ropes and collapsing mines) or staying up with Coin and Haymitch and plan out a war she kinddamaybesortastarted. Sue her for getting fucking drunk, why don't you.

_**Nifty** _

_Nifty,_ she thinks, pulling the trigger and releasing another gout of flames down into the hole.

A few hologram projectors, the image of a forgotten care package wrecked enough to look like it was genuinely misdropped, and a deep enough hole. Anyone would fall for it, any mother or father with a starving child, a rebel hurt enough to desperately need the medical supplies seemingly close at hand, even a child that thought she was safe with a squad of rebels.

A child that thought she would win a prize if she pointed and reached the special treasure before The Mockingjay did. If The Capitol put a couple hundred of tracker jackers into that hole to ensure no one survived, well, that's just pure fucking brilliance isn't it?

 _Nifty_  she thinks, pulling the trigger again.

_**Personal Joke** _

She finds it fucking hysterical. She has been looking for death, desperately seeking it out by throwing herself headfirst into suicide missions like she was a goddess of war. It never came, because its her and why expect things to go her way?

Her image throughout the Districts rose with every nest of rats she was sent to clear out. Of course, that doesn't stop her from hoping someone would have the damn balls to shoot her already. It's not that hard, she uses a bow and arrow for Pete's sake! But no, she doesn't die. It's just eveyone around her that gets to bite it in her place.

So yes, bugger her for keeling over laughing hysterically because she just found out one thing: She cant die! She downed a hovercraft as it prepared a bombing run and watched with malicious glee as it headed straight for her not three minutes ago.

She opened her arms, closed her eyes and awaited the end.

Imagine her surprise when she not only opens them again, a very not-dead thing to do, and realizes the hovercraft not only missed her but that it split in two right in front of her and repainted the floor with her squad.

She's Life's personal fucking joke, and might as well laugh, laugh hysterically at it all.

_**Questions** _

She always did wonder why it took them so long. If you go as far as using incendiary weapons why the hell not go the whole way and just throw chemical weapons into the mix too? It wasn't as though Snow gave half a damn this late into the war, that decrepit fuck wanted to rest easy over a comfy little mountain of rebel corpses and collateral damage be damned!

She does eventually manages to secure a radio for pickup a couple minutes later, informing Coin that of course she's alive. Beete made her a mask, after all it didn't take much cajoling from Katniss when they were so close to the Capitol.

There are questions later of course, like why did it take her so long to secure a radio to call for pickup when her squad had a radioman to begin with? That then leads to the question of why she was short a combat knife, three arrows, and an entire pistol clip? And since they're on gear check already the most important question is why are there bloody handprints on her mask and why is the left lense of it slightly cracked?

She doesn't answer, her hand clenching and shaking lightly as as she stares ahead.

The questions stop there.


	2. you can't carry them on your own, let me carry them with you

**Sounds**

It’s electric buzzing for her, just hearing a generator humming or an electric fence being turned on is enough to put her on edge, make her hairs raise and fists tighten. When they’re about to raid a base and that infernal humming is ringing in her ears it takes some goddamned effort not to just charge in. The memories of dark, water filled rooms and the pain accompanied with that hum still resonate in her mind’s eye.

 

For Katniss, fire does it. She’s not afraid of it per say, but the sound of crackling wood immediately makes her tense up. Makes her slowly put her back against a wall and her eyes searching for a weapon. Fire is a home that is no longer, fire is a baker being left behind and tortured to insanity, fire is death and destruction and really, Katniss gets enough of those on the daily basis as it is.

 

**Warmth**

Katniss doesn’t question it, never has the will to, if she’s perfectly honest. It happens often enough that it's impossible not to notice, but not so much that she’d question Johanna. Not like she’d have any right to. Because okay, she does like to wake up in someone’s arms safe with the knowledge that the horrors of the night weren’t real because there is someone strong, breathing and alive with her.

But it’s not like she _needs_ it.

She just... _cravesitreallydesperately._

  
And maybe Johanna feels the same thing by holding her, maybe having two broken pieces together can make a whole, but Katniss doesn’t ask. It might drive the woman away, might scare her because Johanna knows how to kill and punch and _break_ herself and others. Johanna doesn’t know how to love or care for others. And if nothing else, Katniss quite likes the warmth the ex-Victor provides.

 

**Hollowness**

She can feel it.

Every time they kiss, every time they hug, every time they fuck.

It’s present in those eyes, behind the desire and the pleasure.

In her voice, past the affection and the beginnings of a lie.

In her lips, tasting of fire and ashes and death.

 

Katniss is not entirely there with her, not really. She’s back in that courtyard, she’s seeing those little parachutes drop and the the two blondes that hold her heart lighting up like a couple of matches.

 

**Endless**

She needs a moment, just one moment to herself. Not an ex-Victor, not a soldier, not the Mockingjay’s fuckbuddy-slash-lover.

Just her, little ol’ Johanna being herself for a change.

So what if this moment is spent with a needle of morphling in her arm?

(So what if she misjudges the dosage?

So what if Katniss stumbles into her foaming at the mouth, eyes vacant and looking at the sky?

So what if she comes to and feels like crying and screaming and cursing the heavens?

 

So what? She had her moment, and to her, it tasted like infinity)

 

**Promise**

Once upon a time a Mockingjay was broken and sobbing as a baker boy lay strapped to a bed screaming his agony to whomever would hear as his mind tore itself apart ad infinitum.

Once upon a time a woodswoman comforted a wounded Mockingjay, telling it that everything would be fine, that her heart would mend and the baker boy would regain his sanity. That life, while no fairy tale, would not end in tragedy for her. “And I promise you, even if it all goes to shit and we end up losing this war. I’ll be here for you. Always"

“You’re lying.” says the Mockingjay.

“I’d never dare.” says the woodswoman.

 

Years later, on her knees atop a mountain of corpses with the taste of blood on her tongue and the feeling of ashes on her broken body the Mockingjay remembers those words.

Hours after that as she’s looking through the neatly lined bodies the Mockingjay finds the woodswoman, a Duck, and a baker boy all lying side by side.

“You lied.” says the Mockingjay

 

And the silence is her only answer.


End file.
